


Much Ado about Sherlock

by JohnLockDivision



Category: Much Ado About Nothing - Shakespeare, Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, F/M, Historical, I'm not really sure of the time period, John's a soilder, M/M, Shakespeare, Sherlock's still posh, and a bit of a dick, its shakespeare-y, just a bit bad, just go with it, kind of, moriarty isn't evil here, no bombs, or guns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2014-07-24
Packaged: 2018-01-01 19:31:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 10,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnLockDivision/pseuds/JohnLockDivision
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Much Ado About Nothing' written about Sherlock! Sherlock's still a posh dick and John is still a lady-charming soldier. They still argue and tease each other and won't admit they love each other. Lestrade and Molly are in love and they're scheming with Mycroft to push John and Sherlock together.<br/>Also Moriarty is there and trying to break everyone up and destroy the Holmes' name for Shits and Giggles.<br/>This is hopefully going to be as close to the Shakespeare play as possible, but it is harder than I thought to turn a play into a story!!!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Act I, Scene I. Part i.

Lord Mycroft Holmes (who few knew as Duke of Messina), was a well respected man, with a not-so respected younger brother. While Mycroft ran the city in which they lived, and much more according to his brother, Sherlock ran amok. The only way Mycroft had learnt to control the whirlwind that was his brother was through the companionship of a Miss Hooper (affectionately referred to by Holmes the younger as Molly), the daughter of a well respected scientist.   
When Mycroft had first brought Molly into the family home 3 years earlier, she being just 18 and recently orphaned, and Sherlock being 21 with looks and yet no apparent desires for them, he had worried over her apparent adoration of Sherlock , but after a week together it had become clear that she was no more than a cousin in his eyes (which she thought better than a sister, judging by how the brothers treated each other), and so the two had bonded over their mutual fascination of human anatomy and were now fast friends, discussing many things from anatomical anomalies to eugenics.  
It was during one such discussion of sat in front of the fire that Mycroft was handed a letter from his valet Anthony (as ‘he’ was today) and proceeded to glance over it before interrupting whatever point his sibling had been making.

“It seems that Sir Moriarty’s regiment will be returning to Messina tonight.”

Having received no response from his younger brother, Mycroft proceeded to press Anthony for information, learning that although a few men had been killed there were none of relative importance, and so a letter from Lord Mycroft to the families should suffice.  
Eventually the discussion turned to the men who had returned, and what honours Mycroft might be expected to bestow.

“Tell me about this young Florentine that I have been expected to honour?”

“That is Gregory Lestrade. I know he seems young, but he has achieved things that men twice his age could not. I assure you his honour is deserved.”

“Has the Lord of Three Continents returned?” 

Of course that was the perfect time for Sherlock to interrupt. Looking pointedly at Sherlock (“Remember brother; visitors. Manners. Behave.”) Mycroft grit his teeth and asked as calmly as possible to whom he had been referring, garnering only an eye roll from his brother and an answer from Miss Hooper.  
“He means Captain John Watson.”  
Mycroft had known exactly whom Sherlock had meant, but he had no desire for an argument at that point, as so gave him the information he knew his brother wanted.

“Yes, he has returned, as pleasant as ever.”

The brother continued to have a mental conversation for a few minutes before Mycroft decided that if Sherlock wished to be immature about this, he could be; breaking eye contact to notice the confused expression upon Miss Hooper’s face, and the knowing one upon Anthony’s, before he heard his brother begin his unnecessary speech.

“Captain Watson bought a house in Messina and has since had a parade of ladies through it. My brother thought he might make a good match for myself, or at least another,” at which point his eyes glanced towards Molly, allowing her a moment of realisation before continuing, “Tell me; how many lovers, of either sex, had he abroad? How many showed interest in him? I told him I would pay him for each he did not entice.”  
Athony’s only answer to this was to suggest that his title of ‘Three Continents’ was well deserved, and that while Sherlock would have little need to polish his coins, he may wish to polish the medals he’d surely be bestowing.

“Surely he is not receiving honours for sleeping with half of the country? What good is that to me?”

“He is full of virtues”

“He certainly is full. I’d go so far as to say stuffed, but I with what? I daresay he is mortal, and hardly worth my time.”

Mycroft recognised the look in his valet’s eye, Mycroft explained the feud that had been going between his brother and Captain Watson, and that while it seemed harsh, it was all in good jest and a form of entertainment between the two of them.   
That is, until Sherlock chuckled from where he was lounging, declaring that Captain Watson wasn’t nearly smart enough to entertain him, and not nearly rich enough to make him worth Mycroft’s time.   
However, his natural curiosity soon came over him again;  
“Who is his new companion? Every month he has yet another ‘brother’ by his side. He has too much faith and loyalty in the goodness of mankind. No, wait, don’t tell me; it’s Lestrade isn’t it? I pity him; Watson will drive him mad. God help Gregory! It’ll take years before he is rid of John Watson’s loyalty, as well as his money!”

With that Sherlock rose and bid the trio adieu, before making his way towards his chambers to think upon the coming day.  
Mycroft sighed deeply before turning to his valet and Miss Hooper.

“Pay him no heed; Captain Watson is honourable enough. He is simply a Casanova with a slight propensity towards the cards, although this is easily enough overcome when he is engaged in some business or another.” At this point he dismissed his Valet before turning back to Miss Hooper.   
“Now, my dear Miss Hooper, may I suggest you too retire for the evening? I suspect we shall be in the company of a few soldiers tomorrow, so you may wish to look your best.”  
Mycroft watched Molly leave, before wondering how long it would take for his brother to finally admit his feelings for Watson, and who would get hurt in the process.


	2. Act I, Scene I. Part ii.

At precisely 9am the following morning, Lord Mycroft welcomed Sir Moriarty, as well as the famous John Watson and surprisingly charming Lestrade, into his home. The men breakfasted together, speaking lightly of matters that would be discussed thoroughly at a later date, and exchanging news from home and afar when their pleasant meal was interrupted by an unusually pretty looking Molly Hopper practically dragging a rather sullen Sherlock, prompting Watson to remark that he would be surprised by the younger Holmes appearing so late, if it weren’t for the fact that upon his last visit, he had not been sighted until the afternoon.  
Mycroft braced himself for the impending exchange.

“I have no need for manners with you here, and I assure you if my brother and your friends were not here, neither would I be. Besides, I’m sure you have more than enough manners for the both of us.”  
Watson merely chuckled.  
“I forgot how plain you speak. In any case, manners never hurt – in fact they can be rather useful, and you seem to be the only one who objects to my charm.”  
“Yes...charm. How would anyone survive without it? I am sure all those women are so grateful for that charm that lead them to your bed, and out your door just as easily. I’d rather plain words than hear your false flattery, and indeed you’ll get none from me.”

  
Mycroft knew from past experience that the pair could continue for a while, so he rose and invited the party on a tour of the house, leading Moriarty and Molly around the house, while Sherlock returned to his chambers for an infamous sulk and John found himself walking about the gardens in the company of Lestrade, who seemed oblivious to what had just happened. In fact, he seemed oblivious to all else other than the young Miss Hooper.

  
“John, did you notice that young lady?”  
“Miss Hooper? I noticed her arrive and leave, but not much besides.”  
“I think she is one of the most pleasant ladies I’ve ever had the good fortune to meet. Tell me, what do you think about her? Surely you must have met her before? Give it to me straight, man to man – I need not know her graces or faults, merely the truth of her. I trust your opinion above all other men.”  
“Greg, calm down! She is nothing special! I have known women far prettier, wittier or charismatic than her; indeed her manners may be fine, but they can be taught to any maid, and her conversation may be intelligent, but would it interest you in a thousand days? The only thing I could really say about her is that if she can control Sherlock Holmes as she does, she may not be the simple flower that she appears as, and so I cannot help but like her. If you really desire to have her, I see no reason you should not.”  
“Oh John, to me she is perfect! But do you mean to tell me she is not taken?”  
John chuckled at his friend’s glee.  
“Indeed not. I would scarcely call her perfect, especially not when Lord Sherlock is in the room – he is far more attractive, and intelligent, and if it weren’t for his personality I’m sure he would be wed to the richest monarch around by now. Yet, you speak of marrying her? It’s a shame – I was looking forward to introducing you to some ladies of whose acquaintance I have greatly enjoyed in the past.”

John and Lestrade continued their walk, Lestrade exchanging stories of past battles and conquests and declaring how perfect Miss Hooper must be, while Watson told of his own past conquests, as well as declaring what a terror Sherlock Holmes was.  
Eventually they came across Moriarty, and upon explaining of Lestrade love for Molly, once more received a blessing that he should pursue her, they turned their attention towards John’s perpetual bachelorhood, and his lack of love, causing John to beat a hasty retreat inside and leaving Moriarty and Lestrade to best plan how he may earn Molly’s love, deciding that Moriarty should persuade Molly and Mycroft that Lestrade was worthy.


	3. Act I, Scene II & III

Mycroft was in his study, making final preparations for that night’s ball, when Anthea entered, a rare smile on her face. When pressed she informed her master that she had reliable information of Sir Moriarty’s adoration of Miss Hooper, and indeed that he would make his feelings known that night in dance.   
Mycroft began to mentally plan Molly’s wedding, hesitantly considering ordering double of everything as Sherlock would surely marry also, if Mycroft had his way.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Meanwhile, Moriarty was taking the unusually lazy afternoon as an opportunity to reconnect with an old companion, a Colonel by the name of Sebastian Moran. The two had a great deal in common, and indeed they got along famously. 

“Seb, it has been too long.”  
“Indeed James, but I hope to see more of you now we are both at rest in Messina.”  
“I should think so. What news have you?”  
“The Elder Holmes believes you to be in pursuit of Miss Hooper, and indeed is already thinking of flowers.”  
“Interesting. I was in belief that this would be harder, but I need not try so hard. I shall indeed commend Lestrade to Miss Molly and The Lord, and once they are happy and quite settled, I shall spring my trap and shame shall be brought unto the Holmes’ name – leading none to suspect me, the one who brought the happy couple together. Indeed, given Sherlock’s reputation, it should be easy to convince the populous that he is not the only one running wild.”

Moriarty spent the rest of the day with Moran, not noticing as the clock ticked past supper.


	4. Act I, Scene IV & V and Act II, Scene 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably just point out now that this will only be loosely based on Much Ado, as the only time I saw the play live it was being preformed by 6 actors, and as this works well with the limited Sherlock cast, I will be editing the details slightly to fit! However, the story should be roughly the same!  
> Hope you enjoy :)

Mycroft walked into the library after supper, finding his brother and companion playing chess. He had noticed that Moriarty’s food had been uneaten, and supposing he was out of the house, decided to broach the subject with his charge. Of course, it wasn’t that simple when Sherlock was also in the room. 

“I say, Miss Hooper, what think you of Sir Moriarty?”

“He seems in two minds – jovial enough when in company, but once out of sight seems most melancholy. I can never tell what mood he is in, and I cannot fathom his humour.”

“Honestly Molly – it’s not as if he barely speaks. He is nowhere near as bad as _Captain_ John,” Sherlock sneered. “He talks far too much about things of little importance.”

“Yes brother, I’m sure you’d like Moriarty’s speech to have the length of John’s, and perhaps John’s speech the relevance of Moriarty’s. Would you like anything else? Perhaps you would like John to have Moriarty’s height, and Moriarty John’s stature? Or would you like John to have Moriarty’s hands and Moriarty have John’s legs?”

“Then we’d only have half a man. No, I’d rather have neither of them than a combination of both. Neither of them appeal to me, or engage me. And I do not care for your insinuations or pleasantries; I have no intention to marry, especially a soldier. Lord knows he’ll either die in battle or in the pub. And I have no intention to marry one that is not a soldier – he’d be far too boring. And of course it must be a man I marry, for women are far too sensitive and unexciting for the life which I desire.” 

Mycroft simply rolled his eyes – he had heard this many times since the day Sherlock turned 18, however, nothing he had said on the subject had had as much effect on Sherlock as what Molly quipped; 

“Why Sherlock, you mean to say you shall live under Mycroft’s wing forever? And here I thought you were not fond of each other. I certainly intend to marry, I am no longer 16 and as much as I enjoy my life here, I look forward to running a home of my own.”

“Well, Miss Hooper, you are in luck, for I hear Sir Moriarty desires you.”

No-one said a word, the brothers studying Molly’s face, before Sherlock slowly suggested that perhaps Molly did not desire him. Mycroft rose, suggesting Molly consider it, for Moriarty was wealthy and not a bad match, and departed the library – reminding the pair that the ball was only a matter of hours away, and so it would be in everyone’s best interest that they return to their chambers presently: Molly to prepare for the dance, and Sherlock to have a pre-emptive sulk so as not to disturb the festivities later.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

 Moriarty walked into the ballroom, adjusting his mask, and looked about the party. His eyes briefly took in Moran conversing with Miss Hooper’s maid – a Miss Adler – before he continued his search for Miss Hooper herself. Spying her talking to a rather boorish man, he played the part of a knight in shining armour and led her toward the garden, speaking to her of adoration, passing Sherlock, who was in the middle of telling a group of young women what a cad and a fool John Watson was (while John himself was lamenting at Sherlock’s sharp tongue and foul moods).

Soon enough the entire floor was filled with dancing, which continued late into the night, and Moriarty found himself alone with Lestrade and John, and they raised a toast as Moriarty informed them of Molly’s love for Lestrade rather than himself. They were indeed in high spirits when they were joined by Molly and the Holmes’, although John soon excused himself for another drink rather than spend another moment talking to Sherlock.

The five continued to make pleasantries until Mycroft noticed Lestrade’s fond gaze upon Miss Hooper and drew his attention with a rather pointed cough. 

“Captain Lestrade, it has come to my intention that you admire Miss Hooper, and indeed I know she admires you too. You are obviously not the wealthiest of men, but I have no doubt you will care for her and no objections if you wish to take her hand.” 

Lestrade seemed to be struck dumb for a moment, until thanks to some gentle goading from Sherlock he turned his eyes upon Molly. 

“Is this true Molly? Will you really be my wife? We could not live in a house nearly as grand as this, but it’ll be nice enough, and while my work to defend our home may take me away, I will always return to you as soon as I am able. I realise I have not much to give but myself, but you must trust that I give it wholly to you.”

“Oh good lord, Molly do quieten him – either by your tongue or your lips, as long as his tongue is no longer moving.”

Sherlock pushed Molly towards Lestrade, and the couple immediately embraced, leaving Sherlock to converse with Moriarty as Mycroft hunted out his assistant. 

“Well it appears that everyone is getting married aside from me.”

“Don’t you worry Sherlock, I’m sure I could find someone for you.”

“I am not worried. And I do not wish for a husband – there is no one able to capture my interest for long enough.”

“What about me?”

“Now, now. We both know that wouldn’t work.”

Sherlock left Moriarty’s side to embrace his friend and her fiancé, before he and Molly were called away and Mycroft had taken Lestrade to discuss the terms of Molly’s dowry.

Moriarty let his eyes glide about the room once more, catching Moran’s with a knowing smile.

_The fun was about to begin._

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Having finished the short and frank discussion of Molly’s dowry, which hadn’t taken very long at all due to Lestrade’s eagerness to marry her, Lestrade raised the question of Sherlock’s reluctance to marry.

“I think he and John would make a fine match.”

Mycroft thought upon this for a moment, before deciding that they seemed to bring the worst out of each other, as well as the best, and so their marriage would either be the happiest or the shortest ever seen.

They then agreed that, with some help, it could be achieved, and so Molly was called for. She too felt the couple would be happy together, and so a plan was hatched that surely would succeed in bringing the two together.


	5. Act II, Scene II & III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure if anyone is reading this, but if you are...thanks! Sorry this update has been a while, but I had some major family stuff...then Christmas...and now I am about to start exams, so I thought I'd get this up now as there may not be another update until February!
> 
> Enjoy
> 
> xx

Moriarty and Moran were once again strolling the gardens together when they came upon the subject of the impending nuptials, and Moriarty’s wish that they should be prevented. Fortunately, he prided himself on his ability to conduct misdeeds, and so with the help of Sebastian, (who was in the favour of Miss Hooper’s maid, Irene), he was sure he could destroy the Holmes’ family.

The plan seemed simple enough to formulate; if he could convince Lestrade that Molly was not loyal to him, the engagement would be broken and Miss Hooper’s reputation ruined, as well as that of the Holmes’ family. This, of course, would be simple enough to do with the dark haired Irene in Molly’s stead and Moran in what Greg would think his rightful place.

Of course, all Sebastian needed to know was to take Irene in Miss Hooper’s room on the appointed night, and to call her by Molly’s name, as James would do the rest.

 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

While Moriarty was formulating his plan, Mycroft, Lestrade and Molly were putting their plan into action, having seen John reading beneath a tree in the orchard and with Sherlock safely in the library, out of the way.

John was roused from his reading, the latest medical journal (sent to him by Dr Stanford, an old friend), when he heard voices walking the orchard behind him. He immediately recognised them as those of the elder Holmes and the happy couple, and made to make himself known, but stopped when the subject turned to himself and Sherlock; 

“Uncle, tell Greg what you told me yesterday; of Sherlock’s love for Captain Watson.”

“What? Sherlock is in love? I would never have thought it.”

 “Nor I, Gregory, but I dare say that Captain Watson is a fine one to love, even if he appears to be doing his best not to show it.” 

This was quite a revelation to John, and he soon made up his mind to follow the trio in order to find out more about his sudden admirer. 

“My lord, are you quite sure that Sherlock loves John?”

“Oh yes, quite fiercely I’m afraid.”

“But uncle, you must tell us how! For I was sure he had sworn himself against matters of the heart, and he always looked upon sentiment with such scorn...”

“And John especially! If it was any other, I might believe it. But John Watson!”

“Indeed, I am rather puzzled by it myself.”

 

The trio came to a stop at the end of the orchard, barely giving John the chance to conceal himself before they were once more walking past him, speaking of Sherlock’s sudden adoration, and the fact that it had taken everyone (not just John) by surprise. 

“But has he told John yet?”

“No, and I doubt he will; his pride will not allow it after years of declaring that love is a defect, and nor would his pride allow the possibility of rejection.”

“And yet I found him writing a letter to John last night!”

 

 _A letter?!_ John was suddenly intrigued by Miss Hooper’s declaration, and listened patiently as she described how Sherlock had proceeded to tear the letter to pieces when Molly had found it, and then proceeded to rant at her about John and his many flaws, many of which sounded like compliments in disguise.  Molly finally finished her story, which sounded slightly unrealistic to Greg’s ears, but all too familiar a scenario to Mycroft (and indeed John) by proclaiming that as Sherlock would never admit his love, she hoped that John might realise it on his own.

 

“What good would that do, my dear?” 

John could hear the pity in Mycroft’s voice. 

“He would only make it worse for Sherlock; I doubt he feels the same way, and so would proceed to torment Sherlock .No, I don’t think he would ever love him.”

“I know John like a brother, and I do believe he sees his virtues. He is indeed smart, but perhaps not in matters of emotion.” 

John couldn’t help but chuckle at this, as they were quite right; it was hard to miss Sherlock’s genius, but it was also plain to see that he was not wise where emotions were concerned.  

John was  so caught up in the memories of times when he had to explain to protocol and emotions to Sherlock that he almost missed the fact that Moriarty was approaching the group, who were currently conversing of what to do. When they told him of their situation (John presumed it was as he would rather impartial) he was not quite prepared for what he heard. 

“If Sherlock was in love with me, I would marry him in an instant. Why not tell John?” 

“Unfortunately my brother is being dramatic, yet again.”

“Indeed, he told me that he will surely cease to live if John does not love him, but he’ll die if John knows of his love, yet if John were to pursue him, well, I’m not sure how successful he would be when Sherlock would cut him to ribbons with his tongue.”

“Well, that’s grand; if he was soft and sentimental, we all know enough of _Captain_ Watson to know that he does not look desirably upon the week willed. Indeed, if he wanted someone to dote and fall upon their knees before him, he would find any maid in the village.”

Greg looked slightly dubious, worried that Moriarty knew nothing of the plan.

“I know John as a brother, as I have said before, and I can vouch that he is valiant, and while not as smart as Sherlock, he is wise in other ways and smart enough in himself. If he did discover he holds Sherlock’s heart, he would not enter into it lightly; he would be ready for the fight. He would not take lightly to it; he is a good man, and would not make jest of Sherlock.”

 

Molly looked upon her fiancé with love, having heard his words and appreciating the way he was already protective of Sherlock. Having said their peace, they arrived back at the manor, John barely hearing Moriarty declare his admiration of Sherlock (once again) and how he hoped John would realise he was unworthy of such a jewel, before they had slipped inside for dinner and John made his way to his chamber. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

John had barely had time to change into clean boots before there was a knock on the door, which he opened to reveal a rather sullen Sherlock. Upon seeing his face (as dramatic as it was) John knew himself to be in love with Sherlock also.

“I have been sent to call you to dinner.”

He was relieved that this Sherlock seemed unchanged to the one he had encountered many times before, but of course he did not say any of this.

“Thank you for the trouble.”

“It was no more trouble that I usually make. and if it were trouble to me I would not have come.” 

John smirked at the petulant look on Sherlock’s face. 

“Ah, so you came just to see me?”

“Yes John, you are obviously more interesting than my experiments.” Sherlock drawled, “Honestly, I don’t know why I bothered leaving the library in the first place. You may tell my brother I am not hungry.” 

John watched as Sherlock flounced away, thinking himself blessed that Sherlock had deigned leave his beloved library simply to draw him to eat (when he himself was not), and lucky that such a man as Sherlock loved him.


	6. Act III, Scene I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all your lovely comments! They really mean a lot! xxx
> 
> Just a short one; hopefully there'll be another either tomorrow or Saturday!
> 
> Also, I'm looking for a beta if anyone wants to volunteer?
> 
> Enjoy x

Sherlock was making his way back to the library when he came upon the drawing room containing Molly and her maid Irene, working upon their sewing.

Not wishing to be drawn into foolish womanly gossip, Sherlock was about to hurry past, when he heard his name, followed shortly by John’s.

Sherlock had always been a curious child, always asking ‘why’ and ‘how’, and although he had long passed that stage of asking for the answers, curiosity was still one of his assets.

Noting he still had time before the next stage of his experiments, Sherlock slipped inside the room while the women were distracted by some inane task, and proceeded to conceal himself behind one of the curtains (not one of the most original hiding places, but it would suffice).

The ladies, of course, noticed his presence, and so giving each other a knowing look, proceeded with their conversation.

 

“No, truly Irene; Sherlock is too scornful, and I know he cares not for anyone or anything else his experiments and his studies.”

“And yet you are sure Captain Watson loves him?”

“My fiancé told me himself, and Mycroft confirmed it so.”

“And did your _fiancé_ ask you to tell Sherlock? For if anyone were to do it, it should be you.”

“They did suggest it, but I did convince them that it would be in vain; it would be kinder for the Captain if he attempted to overcome these emotions, rather than let Sherlock know.”

“Why think you so? Do you not think he is deserving of Sherlock?”

“Captain John Watson has never been undeserving of anyone, but there has never been one as proud as Sherlock; he picks apart whatever he looks upon, and he cannot abide any whom he sees as fools, which are most people. All that matters to him is knowledge and fact; sentiment is a weakness, and love has no place in his heart, except his love for himself.”

 

Irene and Sherlock were both stunned at the passion with which the usually mild-mannered Molly delivered her speech, stabbing at her needlework.

Irene recovered first, whilst Sherlock was still overcome by how much affection Molly surely held for him; he was indeed as a brother to her.

 

“You think Sherlock would mock Captain Watson for his love?”

“I know it. I’ve never met someone as smart, brave and caring as Captain Watson, aside from Greg, and yet Sherlock would see his faults, and nothing would ever be right; if he spoke, Sherlock would mock his speech, and yet if he remained silent, Sherlock would question if he had a tongue. He does this with every suitor and, although I often agree with his decisions, I do not wish that fate upon John.”

 

Irene continued to press upon Molly why she would not tell Sherlock, what good would come from it, hearing how Molly would instead go to John, tell him horrid untruths about Sherlock in the hope he would recover from his affliction.

Sherlock found himself greatly upset that John may think less of him, and so was greatly relieved when Irene suggested it was not the best plan, and indeed that John was a good man, and would not impose himself upon Sherlock until he had spoken with Lestrade and the elder Holmes. Deciding there was nothing else to be done, the pair rose and made their way to Molly’s chamber, talking of her wedding along the way.

 

Sherlock remained in the room for a while, thinking over what he had just heard; that John loved him, but everyone thought him too proud and derisive to love him back.

They were right; he was proud, and often cruel, but John was modest and kind and had already softened his edges. He was a most deserving man, and Sherlock realised that he did indeed love John also, but until that moment he had not the word to describe the way he felt.


	7. Act III, Scene II & IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should probably explain a little here; I've skipped out a scene, and a little bit of the story! In the play there are many more characters, so as I'm trying to write this around a cast of 6, I'm having to make a few changes!

The next day found Lestrade, Moriarty and John sat in Mycroft’s study, discussing their plans with the elder Holmes.  
Once they had exhausted all talk of the wedding that was to be held the following day, they moved onto the subject of John’s own love life, accompanied with all the banter one might expect. However, once Lestrade and Moriarty had established the fact that John was indeed in love, he no longer took part in the friendly teasing, instead choosing to stand and leave the study, asking if he might speak to Mycroft alone.  
Of course, they all knew what it was that he wished to speak about, and so when the door closed, Lestrade was surprised when Moriarty turned to him with some unrecognisable look in his eye.  
“I fear I have to talk to you urgently about your wedding.”  
Lestrade realised the look may be concern, and the seriousness of his expression turned Lestrade’s stomach to lead.

“Why, do you fear losing me? Do not fear – I shall remain by your side.”  
“I know you are loyal, but I cannot say the same of your betrothed.”  
“What? You cannot possibly be implying what I believe you to be? Of Molly?”  
“I am afraid so. I fear she may not be as pure and honest as we are lead to believe.”  
“No, she is honest. She would never...”  
“Just, come with me tonight and see for yourself. It maybe that I am mistaken, and if so then I apologize profusely, but if I am right...”  
“Then you will have done me a kindness that I shall never repay.”

Hearing voices in the hall, Lestrade stumbled out, brushing past the Elder Holmes, unwilling to confront him about Molly’s treachery just yet. Moriarty also slipped past, although instead of turning towards his chamber, as Lestrade had done, he made his way to the servants quarters, to inform Irene and Sebastian that their plan was to take place that night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next morning found Molly surrounded by maids, dressing her for her wedding, when Sherlock swanned into her room and promptly through himself dramatically onto her chaise, claiming she should send for the doctor.  
Sensing this was Sherlock’s way of asking for advice, she bade all the servants, except the house mistress Mrs Hudson, who was as much a mother to her as Sherlock her brother and Mycroft her uncle, leave them as she was quite capable of applying her own makeup.  
She was just consider how best to phrase her question when Mrs Hudson got there before her.  
“Now then, dearie, what’s all this about?”  
“I can barely breathe Mrs Hudson. I’ve been having heart palpitations, sweating palms, I can’t sleep, but I find myself drifting off into dreams at the most inopportune moments! Really it is dreadfully inconsiderate of my body to betray me in this way!”  
“Ah, well I know exactly what that is.”  
“You do?”  
Molly and Mrs Hudson exchanged a knowing smile over the rare-naive expression upon Sherlock’s face.  
Molly moved to sit beside Sherlock, enjoying the feeling of knowing more than Sherlock for once.  
“Indeed, there is no cure.”  
“No! I cannot die!”  
“Hush Sherlock, you shan’t die! There is something that will help...”  
“Excellent, Mrs Hudson, fetch it for me!”  
“I can’t dearie, you see...”  
“Then find someone who can!”  
“We know exactly who.”  
“Who?”  
“John Watson.”  
Molly and Mrs Hudson couldn’t help but giggle at Sherlock’s dumfounded expression.  
Taking his hand in hers, Molly gently explained that what Sherlock was feeling was love, and that only John could help alleviate the symptoms.  
“Come, Sherlock, love is not so bad.”  
“Quite right dearie. In fact, is it not time we got you to the church?”  
“Indeed! Think upon this Sherlock; Captain Watson is a good man, or rather, he is a good man for you.”  
Fortunately, Sherlock did not have to think upon it for long; he did indeed love John Watson, and would have him in any way he could.


	8. Act IV, Scene I

Sherlock could feel something was wrong the moment they entered the church.

Mycroft and John smiled at them as Sherlock lead Molly down the aisle (Mycroft at Molly, John at Sherlock), but Lestrade stood with his back straight, staring at the altar and Moriarty was looking at Molly with a frown.

Apparently oblivious to the tense atmosphere, the minister began the typical wedding ceremony, asking Lestrade if he had come to marry this lady. 

“No.”

A nervous titter broke out in the wedding party – apparently unsure whether it was a joke.

It was Mycroft who spoke up; 

“Of course, minister, what he means is that you are to marry them, he is to be married to her.” 

The minister asked Molly, who of course said yes, she was there to marry Lestrade. 

“If anyone knows any just cause or impediment why these two should not wed, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

 

Lestrade turned to Molly, then to Mycroft, asking if they knew of any reason (to which they each denied of knowing any). He then shocked the small gathering by exclaiming loudly that men were allowed to do things without truly knowing what they were doing.

John, sensing his friend’s frantic nature, attempted to pass it off as a joke, claiming he had perhaps imbibed too much the previous night. However, Lestrade cut him off, question Mycroft once again.

 

“You are happy for me to marry Miss Hooper?”

“Of course.”

“And how should I repay you?”

“You need not.”

“Well I thank you, but I cannot accept you generous gift,” Lestrade told him, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “for though she may seem pure, she is far from it. Look at her now! She’s blushing like she were a virgin, therefore she must be a good actress indeed! Anyone who looked upon her know would think she were blushing for modesty, but she has already been in bed with a man, and so were others may see a bridal blush, I see guilt.”

 

“Lestrade, what exactly are you saying?”

“I will not marry her.”

Ever the business man, Mycroft attempted to persuade him otherwise, still not fully understanding what Lestrade was speaking of.

“Sir, if you know she is no longer a virgin – indeed, if you have taken it...”

“Then I would be her husband. But it was not me – it was another. I never pressed upon her more than my station, but I see she did not have the same qualms.”

 

At this point Molly, brave Molly Hooper, stepped forward.

 

“I have done none of these things you blame me of! I have been faithful to you as a fiancée should be. I have not dishonoured you at all. I beg you to stop talking of me like this. Sir Moriaty, what say you? Why is my beloved acting this way?”

“I say nothing. I know to what Lestrade is referring.”

“Greg?”

“ _Miss Hooper_. Last night I saw a man enter you bed chamber and take you by the window. What say you?”

“No such thing did occur! Greg, I beg you!”

Mycroft turned his gaze upon Molly.

“Molly...?”

“No, my lord, I would never!”

At this point, Moriarty stepped forward.

“It grieves me to say, but I was there. A man did indeed enter Miss Hooper’s chambers, and there was some...sinful...activity.”

 

This seemed to decide it. Greg bowed briefly to Mycroft, before turning and storming out of the church, followed by Moriarty, leaving Sherlock to catch Molly as she fainted upon the ground, John soon by her side.

 

“Miss Hooper?”

“Molly!”

Sherlock tried slapping Molly upon the cheek, but it had no effect; she remained asleep. Sensing an opportunity, he caught John’s eye before declaring her dead.

Mycroft simply hummed, declaring it most likely for the best, leaving after a few choice words about her, and some heated words between himself and Sherlock.

Once he left Sherlock leaned in to John.

 

“John, Molly was telling the truth. You know her – she could barely convince Lestrade of her affection, as if she would betray him for another. As if she could court another!.”

John nodded in agreement – looking down as Molly began to wake.

 

“Miss Hooper, do you know who could have done this?”

“I know not. I don’t know what anyone could gain from this! I am as pure as I was born, and were I not then I would surely accept my punishment.”

John helped Molly up, putting his arm around her shoulder to comfort her, watching Sherlock converse with the minister (who apparently owed him a favour) and create a plan. He then turned to John and Molly, informing Molly that she should go with the minister to abbey, where she would be safe until Sherlock had the opportunity to carry out his plan (namely; convince Mycroft he was wrong, and politics would do the rest).

Molly left with the minister, leaving John and Sherlock alone.

Approaching Sherlock, John noticed how worried Sherlock was.

 

“Sherlock, are you worried?”

“Yes, I shall continue to worry a while longer.”

“I would not want that.”

“Do not worry yourself John; I do it for myself, not because you want me to.”

John smiled at this; at the fact that even in the most tense times, Sherlock could still make a Sherlockian joke. Sherlock caught his smile with a raised brow.

 “Sherlock, you do know I believe Molly?”

“Indeed, as do I. I shall be indebted to whoever should sort out this mess.”

“Would it be possible for a man to sort it out? Any man?”

“Maybe, but not you.”

 

John considered this for a moment, before steeling himself for what was to come next.

 

“Sherlock, I love you. Is that odd?”

“Indeed, it is not the oddest thing I have heard. Logically it makes no sense, but neither does love on a whole I suppose. And indeed, emotionally it may be that – “

“I think you love me too.”

“Don’t be stupid, John.”

“I am not stupid. I know you love me.”

“Will you not take back your words?”

“I cannot and will not – for they are the truth.”

“You are insufferable.”

“How so?”

“I was about to tell you I loved you, but it appears you are determined to be first.”

“I would still like to hear it.”

“Fine. John, I love you will all my heart, metaphorically, and I would love you with my whole body if you let me.”

“I would do anything for you too, Sherlock.”

“Kill Greg.”

 

John stumbled back with shock (realising how close he and Sherlock had been).

 

“Greg? I cannot, he is as a brother to me.”

“Then I’m afraid we cannot be.”

“Sherlock...”

“It is obviously this is merely infatuation..”

“No, Sherlock...”

“Lust at most.”

“Sherlock, please, at least be civil!”

“You would rather be _civil_ with me than fight my enemy?”

“Is Greg really your enemy?”

“He has slandered Molly’s good name – so well that even _Mycroft_ believed it, and now has left with no concern for her being. She could be dead for all he knows! So I say yes, he is my enemy.”

 

Sherlock continued with his dramatics, hardly allowing John a word in edgeways, talking of slander and villains and heroes and roaming the small church with his hands waving wildly, until John finally stopped him.

 

“SHERLOCK, STOP.”

 

He approached where Sherlock now stood, taking his hand in his and looking into his eyes.

 

“I love you. I swear it. And if you truly believe that Greg is your enemy, then he is mine too. But I am not a coward – I am a gentleman. I shall fight him for Molly’s virtue, and by extension, your good opinion, honourably.”

 

Dropping a kiss onto Sherlock hand, John strode off to prepare himself, while Sherlock went in search of his brother.


	9. Act IV, Scene II&III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have completely lost track of what Act/Scene I am on! I think I'm now doing it slightly out of order - the story will still be (roughly) the same though! The next chapter will be more focused on John/Sherlock though :)

Sherlock was unable to find his brother until a day had past, at which point Mycroft had already ascertained Molly’s innocence through his sources, and so was already planning some way for Gregory to make up for his actions (although he was still unsure who had spread the untruths about his charge).

Therefore, he asked both Lestrade and Moriarty to his study (he knew of Captain Watson’s love for his brother, and so had no quarrel with him).

He took his time talking of apparently irrelevant matters of political interest, before Moriaty’s pointed glance to the clock brought them to the matter at hand.

 “Now, gentlemen, it has come to my attention that you belied the late Miss Hooper – she was indeed innocent, and your slander has killed her.”

“How dare you!”

Lestrade rose, one hand on his sword, looking as if he might strike Mycroft down.

“Oh, do you intend to kill me as well? It will not so easily be explained away as a simple mistake. I suggest you take some time to calm down and think upon your sins.”

Taking this as a dismissal, Lestrade stormed out, Moriarty following shortly behind.

 

~~O~~

 

They were barely out of the house before they met John; Greg greeting him with relief, and Moriarty growing wary at the tense look upon John’s face.

“Greg, I must speak with you.”

John drew Greg away without a look at Moriarty.

“Greg, you were wrong. Miss Hooper was innocent and now she is dead, due to your villainy. I have been sent to bring her justice; just name the time and place. What do you have to say for yourself?”

“John, I do not believe this! You have had your head turned by Sherlock! After all your claims of remaining a bachelor, it is now you choose to change? You would desert your brothers for one who whispers falsehoods into your ear?”

“Sherlock is not the one speaking false, Lestrade.”

“How long until we may see you with a ball-and-chain, labelled ‘Sherlock’s pet’?”

“Laugh all you will, Lestrade, but we will settle this as gentlemen, for Miss Hooper’s honour.”

Lestrade and Moriarty watched as John stormed into the house, before rage once more overcame Lestrade as he sought out Sherlock, with Moriarty following close behind.

 ~~O~~ 

When Lestrade finally found Sherlock, he was welcomed to a sight he never expected to see; Sherlock, who was always composed and seemed to never suffer from emotions, had a man held against the wall by his collar, leaning into his face in anger.

Lestrade heard Moriarty falter behind him, calling what was apparently the man’s name. Immediately both Sherlock and Moran turned their eyes on Moriarty – one in disgust, the other in desperation (and rightly so, as it appeared that Sherlock had already given him a split lip).

“I should have known,” Sherlock growled, dropping Moran and advancing towards Moriaty, a fierce look in his eye.

Stepping in front of his superior, Greg drew his sword.

“I wish to talk to you, Mr Holmes.”

“Not now Lestrade, can’t you see I’m busy. For God’s sake, put your sword away, or at least turn it upon the real villain,’ Sherlock groaned exasperatedly, gesturing at Moriaty, whose eyes widened at the accusation.

“Me?”

“Oh come now, Moriarty, there’s no need to play dumb – it really doesn’t suit you. My brother and I have each heard 3 separate counts of your villainy, as well as the testimony of your accomplice here. Now I wish to know why.”

 

Greg lowered his sword, not quite understanding what was happening. Moving from between the two men, he thought it best to position himself by the other man, whom Moriarty had named ‘Moran’ and Sherlock named an accomplice.  

 “Why? Come now, Sherlock, surely you can figure that out.”

Greg wondered if Moriarty’s voice had always been so annoying, or indeed if he had always had that slightly mad look in his eye.

“Indulge me.”

Greg was so caught up in the conversation that was happening between Sherlock and Moriarty, that he almost missed Moran draw his own sword and advance upon Sherlock. Fortunately, it appeared Sherlock could either sense him, or had noticed some cue from Moriarty, and so avoided the first blow long enough for Greg to parry the next, leading Moran in a circle before Sherlock cuffed Moran upon the back of the head and he fell down unconscious.

Looking once more at Moriarty, the man who until that point his friend, Greg ground out one word; explain.

Moriarty gazed at him for a moment, looking almost impressed, before turning his eyes once more upon Sherlock, smirking as he began to explain.

 “It was a game, Sherlock. I thought you of all people would understand. Ruining the Holmes’ family reputation was just a bonus.” 

Greg could scarcely believe what he heard. 

“A game? An innocent woman has died!”

“That’s what people DO!” 

Suddenly Moriarty transformed; no longer was he the genial gentleman that Greg was accustomed to – he was now some sort of monster, genius and with evil intent.

Greg could not believe such a being had swayed his mind and turned him against his love. He saw red, advancing upon Moriarty as Sherlock held him back;

“No Greg, that would be too easy a death for him. I suggest we allow my brother to deal with him.”

Greg could do little more that incline with head slightly, motioning that Moriarty should lead the way towards the study, and whatever fate that may await him.

 ~~O~~ 

It was at times like this that Greg swore the elder Holmes must have had some sort of powers; he was sat in his study, awaiting the trio, seemingly unsurprised when Moriarty entered at sword point.

Gesturing towards his guards, he stood and made his way around the desk, standing to face Moriarty, as guards took their place either side of him.

“So, Richard Brook. Yes, I know your name. I also know that your mother died in childbirth and your father was a mere teacher, when he was a criminal. Answer me this, how came you to be here?”

 Moriarty simply smiled a smile that sent shivers down Greg’s spine.

“Oh, very good. You should know though, my mother didn’t ‘die’; I killed her.”

With this, there was suddenly a dagger in his hand (apparently from the belt of one the guards) and he dove towards Mycroft as Sherlock dove towards him, steering him off course and onto the floor, where he found himself beneath the blades of the guards.

Looking upon his brother, Sherlock noted the blood on his shirtsleeves, leaving to fetch John immediately.

Greg was pleased to confirm that the two cared for each other, even if they were loath to show it.

With a flick of his hand, Mycroft commanded the guards to take Moriarty to the local jail, before taking out his handkerchief and pressing it against his arm.

At this point Greg realised what a fool he had been, and fell upon his knee, asking Mycroft for his forgiveness.

“Lestrade, you may stand. We were all taken for fools.”

“But it is my own fault that I dared charge Miss Hooper so. I should not have doubted her.”

“No, indeed not. Unfortunately, there is not much to be done now.”

Mycroft once again sat in his chair, looking as though he was holding court, as Sherlock and John entered. John quickly set to work, stitching Mycroft’s arm in silence, before he sent Greg a slight smile and Sherlock a look to say ‘we’ll talk later’ as he left, with Sherlock waiting a few moments before following.

Greg turned towards the Holmes’ brothers.

“What can I do to attain for my sins?”

Mycroft sighed, turning his eyes towards his work.

“I do not know. I shall let you know when I do; until then I ask that you stay here.”

Greg took this as a cue to leave, noting as he did that Mycroft gazed longingly at the image of Molly that sat upon his desk.


	10. Act IV Scene II, III & IV (The end)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am sooooooooo sorry that it's taken me this long to update! But I had univeristy, and exams, and then my computer decided to break :( Hopefully I'll be able to update my other story/stories soon as well!
> 
> I hope you've all enjoyed this! I'm considering doing some more Shakespearean Sherlock/ Sherlockian Shakespeare, so we'll see what happens!

John left the Lord’s study and headed straight for the garden, slowing long enough to hear Sherlock leave the study and follow behind John. Reaching the lawn, John barely had time to realise that the summer day had melted into a cool evening before Sherlock was upon him, a gentle cough signalling his presence.

Deciding to have some to lighten the levity of what had just happened, John turned to face Sherlock, enquiring as to whether Sherlock had come to the garden for any particular reason, or whether it was just for the company of himself. However, the look upon Sherlock’s face put an end to whatever banter John had been looking for.

 

“Tell me what happened with Lestrade.”

“Nothing but words, now may I have the pleasure of a kiss?”

Sherlock ducked away before John could reach him, leaving John with a mouthful of air.

“Words are useless to me! I’ll come back when you have been useful, as clearly I cannot measure to ‘brethren’. You’re just as bad as the rest of them.”

 

Sherlock turned to go, disappointed that Watson was not as interesting as he had appeared. However, a strong hand caught his arm and he turned to see that John’s face had, momentarily, lost his joking façade.

 

“Sherlock, never believe, for one minute, that I would not give my soul, and that of my comrades, for you. You are the one to whom no one can measure. I have done my duty by you; I challenged Lestrade, and either we shall meet soon or he shall be branded unworthy. Now, tell me, which of my bad parts did you fall in love with first?”

 

Sherlock was stunned by the love and devotion in John’s words, and his bravery. He was also stunned by how quickly the conversation had gone from solemn to playful once again. He blamed this for the fact that his response was firstly ‘all of them’, before recovering himself enough to claim that in fact John had no good parts, and inquired as to which of his own good parts John had suffered love for first.

 

“Oh, I definitely suffer.” John claimed, with a wry chuckle. “But then again, we are both too smart to fall in love peacefully.”

“Mmm. Too boring.”

“Heaven forbid I am boring. Perhaps I should myself a simple maiden so that you can marry a distant prince from a far off land.”

“You wouldn’t dare.  I am the best thing to happen to you, and I wouldn’t give my brother the satisfaction of marrying well.”

“Well I’m glad you don’t think too highly of yourself. How is Miss Hooper?”

“Not well.”

“And yourself?”

“John, I am quite fine…”

“Sherlock.”

With a sigh, Sherlock met John’s eyes, seeing them full of understanding.

“Not well at all.”

 

With a nod, John’s hand rose to cup Sherlock’s cheek, moving in for a kiss, only to be interrupted by Mrs Hudson, bearing news that Mycroft wished to speak with Sherlock.

“John, I dare say you’ve had too much drama for one day.”

“Far too much. Enough to stand me for life.”

“Wish to see some more?”

“By my God, yes.”

As the two marched back into the house, Mrs Hudson couldn’t help but wonder if perhaps there would be a wedding after all.  

 

~~O~~

Bursting into his brother’s study, Sherlock wasted no time in beginning his tirade against Mycroft’s disbelief, both of Molly’s innocence and his own testimony of such, and his foolishness at letting his pride blind him to Moriaty’s true self.

Fortunately John stopped him continuing any further, pointing out that Mycroft and Lestrade were simply mislead by Moriarty, the true villain.

 

“And it appears Miss Adler also.” Mycroft couldn’t help but add, feeling a sense of smug satisfaction at the miniscule twitch of his brother’s eye.

John decided to intervene, once more, and ask the Lord Holmes how he intended Lestrade to account for his mistakes.

 

“I have not thought. I have been too busy grieving over the loss of Miss Hooper.”

“What if he were to wed your other ward in penance?”

Both John and Mycroft turned their gaze upon Sherlock with confusion, although John’s soon turned to understanding as Sherlock bid John fetch the ‘parcel’ from his room, leaving the brothers alone.

 

“Sherlock, I am sorry that I did not do more to prevent what befell Miss Hooper. I know she was as a sister to you, and I’m sure that you miss her dearly. It is clear that you have had quite a shock, as I have no other ward and I doubt that you are offering yourself.”

“Thank you, brother mine, for those dear words. However, you may save your bleeding heart for someone else, as I am quite well. I am aware that you have no other ward, but Lestrade is not.”

“Then why would I bid him wed another? What good would it do me if he wed a stranger?”

“It would not be a stranger.”

“Sherlock - - “

 

At this, Sherlock opened the door, revealing Miss Hooper, supported by John. Mycroft rose to his feet in shock, grasping Molly’s face before pulling her into a hug in a rare display of affection.

“Come John, let us leave them.”

The pair left the study to sounds of apologies, Sherlock vowing to never let Mycroft forget his rare display of emotion, and John vowing to never let him be ashamed of it.

~~O~~

The next morning found John alone with Mycroft in his study, waiting upon Lestrade. Sensing the perfect opportunity, John opened his mouth to speak, although Mycroft cut him off before he had uttered a single word.

 

“I know what it is you are going to say, Sir. I have never seen any man look upon another with as much devotion as you gaze at Sherlock, and I have not seen Sherlock look at anything with as much passion as he gazes at you.  I believe he must love you, and I dare say you love him too.”

“I do, very much. That is why I wish to marry him. Today, if it is agreeable to you.”

“I cannot think of a worthier man for my brother, or indeed any other man who would take him. You may have him; I know he will have you. But why him; I have heard of your romantic exploits, captain.”

 

John thought for a moment before stating, quite plainly, that he did not know why, only that he loved Sherlock with more than he had ever felt for another, despite his flaws.

This seemed to please the elder Holmes, who rose to shake John’s hand just in time for the door to open, permitting Lestrade.

 

“Good day.”

The three men greeted each other, John moving to stand beside Lestrade, having been released from his promise to Sherlock and returned once more to the position of Lestrade’s brother.

 

“Lestrade, I have decided that in penance for the shame and suffering you have afflicted on my family, I could ask a great deal from you. However, you made a mistake, and were led astray, and now you have claimed repentance and stayed to receive your punishment. For this I think you a good man, although not a wise one, and all I shall ask of you is that you marry my other ward.”

“You are most merciful, my lord, for I fear I deserve worse. However, I must ask why it is to me that she is given? Surely any ward of your Lordship would be wed to a Lord unto themselves; it does not take a fool to know that did Miss Hooper not love me, you should never have allowed me her hand.”

“You think too much of my status, Lestrade. I am merely a minor Lord among many. I assure you that the lady that I give to you is as fine as Miss Hooper, as Captain Watson will testify to.”

 

Noting John’s testimony, Lestrade had no choice but to agree to the marriage, once more asking John to be his best man as they made their way to the church.

~~O~~

Upon reaching the church, Lestrade was greeted to the sight of a masked man and woman, the one quite clearly Sherlock, and the other as small and dainty as his Molly once had been.

Gazing at his fiancée, Lestrade could not help but feel sorrow at the loss of his own beloved, but forced himself to put that behind him as Sherlock introduced him to his new bride. Bowing deeply, Greg reached to remove the mask and gaze upon her face, but he was stopped by Mycroft’s hand;

“Not until you take her hand before the priest and call her your wife.”

 

Turning back to the lady in front of him, Lestrade put forth his hand, closing his eyes.

“Give me your hand. I am your husband, if you like me.”

However, it was not a hand Lestrade received, but a mask.

“When I lived, I was your other wife. And when you loved, you were my other husband.”

Could it be? Lestrade opened his eyes to beautiful image of Molly Hooper smiling up at him.

“Another Molly?” Lestrade gasped, raising his hands to trace her face.

“As true as the nose on your face. I died when you accused me of such horrid things, but I am alive now. And as surely as I am alive, I am pure.”

“Molly…can it truly be?”

“I did die, Sir, but only while the rumours lived.”

 

Lestrade could not contain himself a moment longer, gathering Molly into his arms and swinging her about the air.

 

Sherlock was quite distracted with the show, and did not notice John approach him, wondering loudly as to where Sherlock was.

“For goodness sake, John, it is quite clearly me.”

Sherlock reached to remove his mask, but found that John had got there first, taking a moment to run his hands through Sherlock’s hair while doing so.

“What is it you wanted, Captain?”

“Do you not love me?”

Sherlock rolled his eyes; he could tell what John wanted, but he was going to have to work for it.

“Hmm…no. I don’t believe so. Human error and all that.”

“Well then, Mycroft was obviously wrong, for he swore that you did.”

“Well, do you not love me?”

“Of course not. Human error and all that.”

“Then clearly Lestrade is also mistaken, as he swore that you did.”

“Irene told me you were almost sick for me.”

“Lestrade told me you almost died for me.”

“’Tis nothing; just the life of a soldier. So you don’t love me?”

“Mmm…no. No more than friends.”

“Come, brother, I am certain that you love the good captain.”

 

Damn. Sherlock had forgotten that the world consisted of more than him and John. Clearly John had forgotten as well, as he looked equally as shocked when Lestrade clapped him on the shoulder, affirming that John definitely loved Sherlock, and brandishing a piece of paper, declaring it was a poem that John had written for Sherlock, declaring his love. Molly also added that she had with her a letter that Sherlock had written for John, declaring the same.

Sherlock and John stared at each other in shock, before John spoke up.

“Well, there we have it then Sherlock. Clearly the evidence speaks for itself. I’ll marry you today, if you agree.”

“I suppose I shall not say no. After all, the church is all ready decorated and everyone is here. There would be no point in redoing everything. And of course, it would save your life, as I was told you were considering doing something stupid like invading another country should I deny you.”

“Oh, shut up you.”

And suddenly John’s mouth was upon him, and Sherlock’s mind was as quiet as it had ever been.

 

Breaking apart, the two looked about themselves, both glowing with happiness. Lestrade was the first to approach, clapping John on the shoulder once more.

 

“So, no more ‘three-continents’ then? Shame, I was hoping your exploits would keep me entertained throughout my marriage.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m sure Sherlock will keep me in enough mischief to entertain both yourself and half of Messina.”

“Perhaps we might even visit a few continents while we’re at it…” Sherlock growled into John’s ear, turning him red.

“Come brother, there will be time for that after the wedding.”

 

Raising his eyebrow, Sherlock simply turned to John, taking the arm that was raised waiting for him, striding into the church, shortly followed by Greg and Molly, where the two couples were shortly wed and then proceeded to dance the night away (or rather, Greg and Molly did. Sherlock and John seemed to disappear while Mycroft was occupied with the cake).

 

 

It was not until the next morning that they found Moriarty dead and Moran’s cell empty, but that is a story for another time.

 

 


End file.
